Today I decided to shine. Shine brighter than a shooting star. Brighter than that girl at church camp. I was going to be the face of joy and happiness. And I did. I was bubbly and bright, sunshine and sparkles. Rainbows and unicorn farts, ya'll. Yup. Unicorn farts.
You see, the last few weeks have left me in a bit of a funk. Here, there, everywhere. Busy, busy, busy. And if you know me, you know how much I adore busy. But sometimes, just sometimes, I have to s-l-o-w i-t d-o-w-n. Yesterday I was cranky and funky and a bit of a gruffly stinker. I didn't care and wanted nothing but a rest. And when I whispered to the hubs, "are we going to make them go to TaeKwonDo tonight?" and he mumbled, "I'm not taking them" I sighed a sigh of extraordinary relief. I was done. Stick-a-fork-in-me kind of done. I did not want to shuttle kids another place. I didn't want to watch through the glass as they did the same kicks and punches and obstacle course they've been doing for 7 months. I wanted to be home and do nothing more than be ordinary, everyday me. And to do it in my jammies. On the living room floor. Or the couch.
But today I could feel the shift when I woke up.
Even though our son had slept on the floor next to our bed again, for the 30th night in a row.
Even though we'd spent the day before with him being pricked and medicated and told to breathe hard and x-rayed...
Even though I know my girlfriend is starting the biggest battle of her life...
Even though I wasn't prepared for this morning's book study at church...
Even though my back and my feet and my wrists still ache like always...
Even though...
I felt it. It was a great day to be alive. It was a great day to be joyous. To be wonderful and happy and fun.
So I did. I enjoyed this day like none other in recent history. I've had good days, sure. I've enjoyed the company of others, most definitely. But today the sun was shining, the bees were buzzing (all around my delightful cream soda, mind you) and everyone seemed to be smiling. I visited a girlfriend and she got a great gift in the mail. She makes me smile anyway, but today she paraded around town in a Wonder Woman costume, making a zillion other people smile.
Despite my slight lack of preparation I threw myself whole-heartedly into this morning's book study at church and I feel like we had another day of incredible discussions. And it seemed, to my overly bright and bubbly self, that everyone else at church for this morning's study was a little more bubbly and bright today too. The prayer requests were mostly of praise. The conversation was full of zest and vigor. The chatting was incessant. And the happiness was tangible. Real, honest-to-goodness happiness. Joy.
The joy I felt made me want to extend it to others, so I let my kids play on the school playground for a bit before taking them to the park to meet friends and play. For hours. Hours. I had no idea we had managed to dilly-dally away nearly two full hours at the park. Because I was enjoying this day more than any other lately. My heart is bursting today and I can't help but share.
So here's a bit of sunshine for you today. I pray that your day be full of the joy and giddiness that can only come from God. He wakes us each morning with the blessing of a new day. A day to live life fully and awesomely. With the freedom to smile at everyone we meet. To wear a costume around town. To make up words to describe how we feel. To live and love living.
Go into this day with a smile and a heart bursting with love for this life.
It's yours.
Live it.
And live it wildly, crazily, amazingly.
Because sometimes you gotta shine.
Wednesday, September 30, 2015
Sunday, August 16, 2015
A Wrinkled Heart
Ella came home from school this week with a wrinkled heart...
Her heart wasn't hurt or sad or even lonely. It wasn't lost or feeling blue. It wasn't even a little bit damaged that day. There are certainly days where it is, but that day she brought home a wrinkled heart for all of us to see.
What she brought to us that day was a paper heart. A wrinkled paper heart that now hangs on a door in our home where my kids will see it zillions of times a day. A heart that reminds us how tender our real hearts are. A heart that reminds us that our words have the power to wrinkle and crumple.
Not only was her heart wrinkled, but her heart was also torn. A sign of what was to come this weekend. I can't begin to tell you how thankful I am for that heart that came home in a backpack. It gave us a place to begin a discussion that was overdue, because a heart in our home was wrinkled and beginning to rip right down the middle...
Cassius: "Ella will be so happy when I go spend the night with Auntie S and Uncle K."
Mom: "Why do you think that? I bet she'll miss you!"
Cassius: "Because she hates me. She always says she hates having a little brother. She hates me... "
If you can't imagine that conversation with a broken-hearted 4 year old, read it again. Read it with pure sadness. With a wrinkled heart. With a heart beginning to rip right down the middle.
"Because she hates me. She always says she hates having a little brother. She hates me. She's not going to miss me, she'll be happy I'm gone."
Oh the wrinkling and tearing that went on in this momma's heart that moment. The wrinkling and tearing that I felt for him. His tiny little heart that loves his sissy. The heart that is excited to see her after school each day. The heart that wants to be sure he gets her a sucker from the grocery store or a sticker from the bank. The heart that makes her pictures and bracelets and thoughtfully picks out her birthday gift months in advance. That little heart was wrinkled, crumpled, stomped on and torn. Right. Down. The. Middle.
When the vice grip on my heart loosened we had a chat and some hugs and loves and reassurances that she does love him and so do daddy and I. That he isn't hated, but loved and cherished and treasured and adored. I smoothed as many of those wrinkles as I could. I got out the tape and patched the tear... but that's not so easy to do.
When his heart was starting to smooth I sent him to the lunch table with daddy and called sissy to her room. I sat on her bed and waited. And I cried. He was hurt and I was hurt. My disappointment and tears of sadness flowed easily but tenderly.
She needed to understand.
She needed to know the damage done.
Her overwhelming feelings of regret were immediately obvious as she listened to me tell her how her brother was feeling. The hurt he shared in three simple words: "she hates me". The sadness he was feeling and the tears that he had cried. The wrinkles she had put in his heart. The tiny tear that was spreading into a big rip right down the middle.
I reminded her of the wrinkled heart she had brought home from school. The heart that was no longer just a whisper in her ear. A sentiment that wasn't intended just for the classroom but all the hearts she'll ever encounter...
That little girl's heart began to wrinkle right at that moment. The moment she realized. The moment she knew the hurt she'd caused.
The fixing is coming along slowly but surely. This morning in church as Cassius sat on my lap and Ella snuggled up next to me he put his arm around her shoulder and she reached up and held his hand.
There are daily reminders to give love. Because to give love often means you shall get love.
The bathroom door between their rooms bears a wrinkled, crumpled, ripped and tattered reminder of what our words mean to others.
Ella came home from school this week with a wrinkled heart... and it is beautiful.
Her heart wasn't hurt or sad or even lonely. It wasn't lost or feeling blue. It wasn't even a little bit damaged that day. There are certainly days where it is, but that day she brought home a wrinkled heart for all of us to see.
What she brought to us that day was a paper heart. A wrinkled paper heart that now hangs on a door in our home where my kids will see it zillions of times a day. A heart that reminds us how tender our real hearts are. A heart that reminds us that our words have the power to wrinkle and crumple.
Not only was her heart wrinkled, but her heart was also torn. A sign of what was to come this weekend. I can't begin to tell you how thankful I am for that heart that came home in a backpack. It gave us a place to begin a discussion that was overdue, because a heart in our home was wrinkled and beginning to rip right down the middle...
Cassius: "Ella will be so happy when I go spend the night with Auntie S and Uncle K."
Mom: "Why do you think that? I bet she'll miss you!"
Cassius: "Because she hates me. She always says she hates having a little brother. She hates me... "
If you can't imagine that conversation with a broken-hearted 4 year old, read it again. Read it with pure sadness. With a wrinkled heart. With a heart beginning to rip right down the middle.
"Because she hates me. She always says she hates having a little brother. She hates me. She's not going to miss me, she'll be happy I'm gone."
Oh the wrinkling and tearing that went on in this momma's heart that moment. The wrinkling and tearing that I felt for him. His tiny little heart that loves his sissy. The heart that is excited to see her after school each day. The heart that wants to be sure he gets her a sucker from the grocery store or a sticker from the bank. The heart that makes her pictures and bracelets and thoughtfully picks out her birthday gift months in advance. That little heart was wrinkled, crumpled, stomped on and torn. Right. Down. The. Middle.
When the vice grip on my heart loosened we had a chat and some hugs and loves and reassurances that she does love him and so do daddy and I. That he isn't hated, but loved and cherished and treasured and adored. I smoothed as many of those wrinkles as I could. I got out the tape and patched the tear... but that's not so easy to do.
When his heart was starting to smooth I sent him to the lunch table with daddy and called sissy to her room. I sat on her bed and waited. And I cried. He was hurt and I was hurt. My disappointment and tears of sadness flowed easily but tenderly.
She needed to understand.
She needed to know the damage done.
Her overwhelming feelings of regret were immediately obvious as she listened to me tell her how her brother was feeling. The hurt he shared in three simple words: "she hates me". The sadness he was feeling and the tears that he had cried. The wrinkles she had put in his heart. The tiny tear that was spreading into a big rip right down the middle.
I reminded her of the wrinkled heart she had brought home from school. The heart that was no longer just a whisper in her ear. A sentiment that wasn't intended just for the classroom but all the hearts she'll ever encounter...
That little girl's heart began to wrinkle right at that moment. The moment she realized. The moment she knew the hurt she'd caused.
The fixing is coming along slowly but surely. This morning in church as Cassius sat on my lap and Ella snuggled up next to me he put his arm around her shoulder and she reached up and held his hand.
There are daily reminders to give love. Because to give love often means you shall get love.
The bathroom door between their rooms bears a wrinkled, crumpled, ripped and tattered reminder of what our words mean to others.
Ella came home from school this week with a wrinkled heart... and it is beautiful.
Monday, August 10, 2015
Hello 1st Grade!
I just sent my daughter off to her first day of 1st grade. I'm really in awe (and a bit of denial) that there aren't a few more weeks of summer left. It seems like we didn't go to the pool or the zoo enough, play in the back yard enough, ride bikes enough, catch fireflies enough or have fire pits enough.
Next summer I vow that we will go to fewer camps, have fewer planned activities and spend more time doing exactly what we feel like doing at that moment. There will be more zoo trips, more backyard sprinkler parties, more pool trips and more firefly catching. More listening to the sounds of summer long after bedtime. More time together just sitting. Just playing. Just enjoying life.
This 1st Grade girl turned seven a few days ago and she's managed somehow to string out her birthday to cover four days and dad sweetly informed her tonight that her last-minute "birthday nachos" are the end. Her birthday is officially over now. To be totally honest I wish she had managed to drag out age six a bit longer but I haven't finished the time machine in the basement yet, so I'll shift gears and look forward to seeing how she grows in her seven-year-old year!
In the meantime, here's her time-capsule from her year as a six-year-old!
In 2014, this was the most coveted of birthday gifts for Ella. She could NOT have survived that birthday without it. In fact, she cried the day she discovered it and we left without it, certain it would sell before someone could buy her one for her birthday.
On the first day of Kindergarten 2014 there were some tears as her class headed into the building, but little brother was there with flowers after school to tell her he was proud of her and how much he missed her!
Then she celebrated with family, dinner out and lemon meringue pie!
Before heading out the door as a 1st grader and a starting a new chapter of life.
God bless you and keep you this school year, Miss Ella.
Love you always,
Mommy
Next summer I vow that we will go to fewer camps, have fewer planned activities and spend more time doing exactly what we feel like doing at that moment. There will be more zoo trips, more backyard sprinkler parties, more pool trips and more firefly catching. More listening to the sounds of summer long after bedtime. More time together just sitting. Just playing. Just enjoying life.
This 1st Grade girl turned seven a few days ago and she's managed somehow to string out her birthday to cover four days and dad sweetly informed her tonight that her last-minute "birthday nachos" are the end. Her birthday is officially over now. To be totally honest I wish she had managed to drag out age six a bit longer but I haven't finished the time machine in the basement yet, so I'll shift gears and look forward to seeing how she grows in her seven-year-old year!
In the meantime, here's her time-capsule from her year as a six-year-old!
Batgirl. Enough said.
On the first day of Kindergarten 2014 there were some tears as her class headed into the building, but little brother was there with flowers after school to tell her he was proud of her and how much he missed her!
October brought the opportunity to be flower girl for the first time at Aunt Michelle's wedding in Colorado. What does Ella remember most? The giant burrito she wants to go back and eat again!
There's nothing quite like a dance with daddy!
These two. Every year. Father-daughter date night to dinner and a dance at the YMCA. Love.
Captain One-Sock and Captain Butterfly. Don't mess.
Spring music program - April 2015
Our flag girl - keeping the downed tubers safe!
Captain of grandpa's boat!
Fishing!!!
First trail ride - Blue Bell Stables, Custer State Park, SD
Presidential faces on a mountain.
Reptile Gardens, SD
Birthday donut from Nana!
Now here's a story. Remember that gift from last year that she couldn't have survived without? Yeah, it's part of the lineup of stuffties in her room and a new gift was at the top of the list this year.
This girl wanted her ears pierced. For months. Months of asking. Months of being subtle, yet persistent enough to be taken seriously. Months of waiting patiently for her birthday. We checked out the options weeks ahead of time and I had a game plan for getting these adorable little ears pierced.
Two at once, ya'll. Two at once.
Dad asked "why do we have to do them both at the same time?"
Rookie.
"Because our daughter will go through life with only one ear pierced if we do them one at a time, dear husband."
So at 5:10 on her birthday we entered the shop to have her Hello Kitty earrings placed in her anxious lobes and an anxious little brain kicked into high gear. She got scared and stressed and wanted to leave, sans spare holes.
Cassius brought her a variety of wide-eyed stuffties and the promise of a new one if she got it done. It took that stufftie, momma counting to ten in Korean and two sweet and well-trained ladies with "earring guns" to get her those holes, but...
she did it!!!
Then she celebrated with family, dinner out and lemon meringue pie!
Before heading out the door as a 1st grader and a starting a new chapter of life.
God bless you and keep you this school year, Miss Ella.
Love you always,
Mommy
Wednesday, July 1, 2015
A Little Bit Crazy
There are women in this world that amaze me. Day in and day out, they amaze me.
It isn't because they have a clean house, perfectly mannered children, balanced meals or an ideal wardrobe. It isn't that they have the perfect marriage, awesome house or terrific job. It isn't the sleek hairstyle, manicured nails or fancy car.
It's the lady cleaning the messy house, raising the crazy children, serving the unbalanced meals and wearing the "day two" clothes. Its the woman living the real marriage, in a normal home with any job she's chosen. It's the lady with the "washed three days ago" ponytail, the manicure from her six year old and the van with handprints on the dusty door panels.
It's because they are a little bit crazy!
It's the lady who will open her doors to any number of friends and their children for a lunch playdate. When she's 8 months pregnant. With her fourth child. She will host those people to find out more are coming, bringing the total of children to 20 and the moms to eight. And she'll smile and laugh and welcome each one with a warm hug and a giant smile of love and acceptance and true joy that they have come to her home that day.
It's the nurse who answers phone calls in the middle of the night. Tumbling out of bed to rush to the hospital for hours on end... then comes to Bible study. With brunch in-hand.
It's the mom who accepts your kids into her house at the drop of a hat. And expects nothing for her time and hospitality. Who won't accept lunch as a "thank you" in return.
It's the woman who takes your daughter to school daily. Who can read that little girl's mood from the driveway as she exits the house and treats her with the compassion or silliness she needs.
It's the grandma and the nana that do fun things with the kids. Just because they want to. Just because they know how much those memories will mean to their grandchildren as they grow up.
It's the checkout lady at the store who knows the specials and the price-matches for gallons of milk and offers them to you of her own accord because it's her desire to be sure you get the best deal every time you go through her line. Then she asks about your kids and how your weekend was.
It's the friend who made you feel "at home" in a new, big city. Who is always there for you. Who cares about you and your family.
My list doesn't end there. My list is comprised of the women I know and love. Who are a part of my life in ways that I never could have imagined.
Today I was included in a crazy lunch full of kids and moms and chatter and compliments and love and well-wishes and "until I see you again's". It was Crazy with that C big and bold. But it was amazing. And relaxing.
Call me crazy. I think it was relaxing.
And it reminded me of all the ways that the women in my life are truly amazing.
And a little bit crazy.
It isn't because they have a clean house, perfectly mannered children, balanced meals or an ideal wardrobe. It isn't that they have the perfect marriage, awesome house or terrific job. It isn't the sleek hairstyle, manicured nails or fancy car.
It's the lady cleaning the messy house, raising the crazy children, serving the unbalanced meals and wearing the "day two" clothes. Its the woman living the real marriage, in a normal home with any job she's chosen. It's the lady with the "washed three days ago" ponytail, the manicure from her six year old and the van with handprints on the dusty door panels.
It's because they are a little bit crazy!
It's the lady who will open her doors to any number of friends and their children for a lunch playdate. When she's 8 months pregnant. With her fourth child. She will host those people to find out more are coming, bringing the total of children to 20 and the moms to eight. And she'll smile and laugh and welcome each one with a warm hug and a giant smile of love and acceptance and true joy that they have come to her home that day.
It's the nurse who answers phone calls in the middle of the night. Tumbling out of bed to rush to the hospital for hours on end... then comes to Bible study. With brunch in-hand.
It's the mom who accepts your kids into her house at the drop of a hat. And expects nothing for her time and hospitality. Who won't accept lunch as a "thank you" in return.
It's the woman who takes your daughter to school daily. Who can read that little girl's mood from the driveway as she exits the house and treats her with the compassion or silliness she needs.
It's the grandma and the nana that do fun things with the kids. Just because they want to. Just because they know how much those memories will mean to their grandchildren as they grow up.
It's the checkout lady at the store who knows the specials and the price-matches for gallons of milk and offers them to you of her own accord because it's her desire to be sure you get the best deal every time you go through her line. Then she asks about your kids and how your weekend was.
It's the friend who made you feel "at home" in a new, big city. Who is always there for you. Who cares about you and your family.
My list doesn't end there. My list is comprised of the women I know and love. Who are a part of my life in ways that I never could have imagined.
Today I was included in a crazy lunch full of kids and moms and chatter and compliments and love and well-wishes and "until I see you again's". It was Crazy with that C big and bold. But it was amazing. And relaxing.
Call me crazy. I think it was relaxing.
And it reminded me of all the ways that the women in my life are truly amazing.
And a little bit crazy.
Tuesday, June 30, 2015
Fireflies and Fairy Gardens
From the crack of the bat to the perfect toast of the mallow, summer is here in all of its backyard lightning bug catching glory.
Growing up in the middle (literally) of a cornfield in Nebraska I enjoyed the croak of the bullfrog and the glow of the lightning bugs each summer, but it wasn't until recently that I realized some people don't know of such soothing summer sights and sounds. They consider lightning bugs (fireflies) to be mythical creatures. The stuff of little girls dreams.
This weekend we spent a beautiful summer evening enjoying food, cold ones and awesome friends. When the sun fell below the horizon and the glow of fireflies lit the yard Ella was as excited as she is every night. I told her I'd get her a container to catch them. "You can catch them? How?" My Cali-girl gal-pal was astonished. A. Ston. Ished. "Seriously? You can keep them in a jar?"
To me it seemed her daughter was about to learn one of the greatest joys a kid can imagine at dusk of a summer evening. Catching fireflies, giving them shelter in an old Ball jar and letting their soothing twinkle lull her to sleep.
That night we made do with a clear solo cup and some tin foil, but tonight, in preparation for little Emma's trip back to Cali to see her cousins, we made her a very special lightning bug jar. A full quart size, complete with air-holes in the lid and a pretty fabric swatch to go under the ring. A perfect gift for this little lady. Heavenly.
It got me to thinking about the other people in my life that live far from The Good Life. My brother-in-law sheds his shoes and socks, rolls up his jeans and runs through the grass like a kid when he gets back to Nebraska in the summer. Green grass. Soft grass. Grass between the toes. Heavenly.
We are in the planning zone for this summer's greatest week. A week at the big lake in Nebraska. Big Mac. Lake McConaughy. 20 miles of shoreline. 35,700 acres of surface area at full-capacity. Waterskiing, fishing and tubing. Beach camping, campfire pies, and s'mores. Smoky air, crackling logs and waves on the beach.
Heavenly.
We are blessed. Richly and in many ways. We have a lake house we can visit anytime complete with fishing, kayaking and relaxing. Ella and I enjoy a nice kayaking excursion on a calm clear morning. She takes her sketch paper and artist supplies, I take my thoughts, and together we relax and enjoy nature. By the time we get back to grammy and grampy's lakehouse she has created a book of God's creatures we've seen. All the way from the birds in the sky down to the family of fish under the logs where the turtles live. I have a clearer mind and calmer heart.
Heavenly.
New life abounds all around us here in the heartland. Young calves and colts litter the pastures and sometimes the littlest of friends need a helping hand. One single, solitary set of 12 hours offered us two occasions to engage in Rescue Missions last week. Ella's affection for all critters brought us to the rescue of a family of ducks at the park. Their wayward travels took them away from the pond, through the playground and into the street. Momma seemed confused and the downy little ducklings hadn't a care in the world. But my little Ella cared enough for all of them, so we ushered them gently back to the grass and safety.
Kittens? Did someone see kittens?
"Meow meow" (Yes.) "Meow-meow-meow" (Can we keep them?)
(If you know us well, you know that Ella spent a portion of a preschool-age year communicating primarily in kitten. I am now fluent.)
"No. We live in town, cats belong outside and your dad is allergic to cats." (Solid argument, no?)
Lord help us, there were kittens by the side of the driveway to the lake house early on Wednesday morning.
Lord help us even more that they were still there, seemingly abandoned, that evening.
Commence Operation Kitten Rescue. After a long day of summer day-camp, swimming and running around, we agreed to come to the rescue of the kittens. Right after supper. The kids and I loaded up on the four-wheeler and went to check on the kitties. A container of milk and milk-soaked bread in-hand we coaxed those curious but scared little kitties out of the brush and up to the buffet we offered. My defenses weakened by the pure innocence and adorable nature of kittens and my Ella, I agreed that we should find a large box and give the kittens shelter for the overnight. As we departed in search of a box a momma cat came across the road, but gave little notice to the kittens. We watched, assuming we would find out one way or another if this was their momma. Her lack of interest made me wonder still, so we fetched the box and extra milk. Upon our return, momma was licking the bowl clean and heading off down the road. Ella quickly realized these kitties did indeed have a momma and the dam broke...
W-I-D-E open. Gushing tears of heartbreak. Never has a child been so heartbroken by the existence of a live-and-well animal. Ever.
Mission... over.
Ella's take on the whole thing?
Kittens are heavenly.
Not getting to keep them is heart-wrenching and painful. So painful only grammy can make it better.
As the snuggling soothed the kitten-induced drama, talk turned to the fairy camp she was attending that week. Fairy wings on day one. Wands on day two. Flower crowns on day three. Fairy houses on day four. Tea and cupcakes and fairy butterfly feeders on day five.
If she didn't get enough at camp, she's filling her bucket at home this week! Seeing how infatuated and enamored she was with all the fairy-goodness of that week's camp I made a quick stop at Hobby Lobby to gather fairy-approved supplies and arranged a fairy house-making afternoon with her best girlfriend from school.
My garage looks like Pixie Hollow exploded, but these girls had a blast!
For me, this is the season.
Baseball games & s'mores.
Green grass & croakin' bullfrogs.
Downy ducklings & cute-cute kittens.
Campfires & lake life.
Fireflies and Fairy Gardens.
Heavenly.
Tuesday, May 19, 2015
Kindergarten Besties
Oh those silly kids. For almost the entire school year I've been bringing home a spare kid each day and dropping him in his driveway on our way home. The conversations from the cheap seats never cease to entertain. Topics range from school-related activities to weekend plans and toilets (always toilets) to horrid knock-knock jokes.
For weeks I've been hearing "Next time guys, we have to be way funnier. Way, waaaaaay funnier."
And I've heard it all.
"Knock knock"
"Who's there?"
"Interrupting cow"
"Interrupting co...
"Moo"
"What did the momma tomato say to the kid tomato?"
"ketchup"
(Because they were going for a walk and the kid was falling behind...)
That one took Ella about a month to finally "get" when she saw it on her own milk carton at lunch. Finally.
"How do you make a witch itch?...Take away the w!!!"
**Chirp. Chirp.**
(Again, I had to explain that one for a few weeks)
So yesterday they chatted about being the teacher and the teachers being the students.
Hilarity, my friends. Hilarity.
What really gave me a bit of the giggles was when they decided they would not let them have class everyday but make them take a field trip every. single. day.
Like a field trip is a punishment?
"So their legs would get tired too."
Oh yes, walking the zoo for a day is horrid.
So as I reflect on this year of Kindergarten convo-induced giggles I wonder how things will be now that they are headed on to 1st grade. They've discussed the matter at length, with deep-seeded concerns over the three of them losing each other. Or two of them being together and one being left out. Because, you see, next year they may not all be in the same class.
The Three Amigos. B-E-E. Triple Threat. Barrett-Emma-Ella. Whatever you call them, call them tight. This trio seems to have clicked and it didn't take long. So now after a full school year of being a great group of friends they want to plan summer get-togethers. Sleepovers. Backyard parties and to be friends for all of life. To never forget each other.
So during their whole 70 days off from school for the summer I see playgrounds and backyards and tents and firepits and sleepovers in their future. Because each day, at the end of the day, I see hugs and loves and "goodbye's" and "see you tomorrow's" that are genuine and true. I see friends that want to be forever friends. And I want to help foster those relationships and help them grow. Because these kids are good kids. Their parents are good people. They are the kinds of kids I want my baby girl hanging with. Learning from. Being herself with. Because they are accepting of each other just the way they are.
I grew up in a town where you were always in the same class with the same people unless someone moved away or was new to town. My choices for friends were pretty limited. My husband grew up in Omaha and has had the same core group of friends since middle school. Middle school, ya'll. In a town this size??? I'm amazed.
Then I realized why. Do you know who my mother-in-law celebrates her birthdays with? The moms of those friends. Those relationships thrived not only because those kids enjoyed each other, but their parents did as well. They spent time together, they helped cultivate and then tended to those relationships. Our kids, at this age, don't have ample opportunity to get together with their friends until a parent organizes and transports. I've been slacking in this department for the last year. I was tired. I was tired of calling and asking and planning and transporting and scheduling and cleaning up and refereeing and doing. I was tired.
Now they've reached an age where there is a lot less action needed on my part. Ask, plan, transport. Pretty simple. Maybe feed a kid or two here and there. Easy-peasy. So this summer that's what I'll do. I'll ask and plan and transport. I'll supervise. And referee when necessary. I'll love and hug and feed and entertain. I'll do what needs to be done to keep these kids together this summer.
I want Ella and her friends to remember this as the greatest summer ever... until the next summer. The summer when they could get together with friends and continue to feed those friendships, hoping they will continue to bloom in the fall and winter when new friends enter and another school year might separate them. And if during the course of time she decides those relationships aren't the best for her it will be her decision, not mine. It won't be my fault that B-E-E doesn't exist anymore. I will have done what I could to foster and nurture those relationships she has found so easy and fulfilling and enduring this year.
Kindergarten is just the start and I know that next year there will be new friends. Next year there will be more discoveries and better jokes and deeper backseat conversations during carpool. Next year there will be 1st graders in my van. Next year they'll learn more about who they are and who their friends are. They'll grow into bigger kids and stronger individuals. They'll move forward and I'll be there to help maintain the friendships they value and cherish.
So here's to a wildly successful Kindergarten year full of backseat conversations that fill the entertainment quota for my afternoons. Here's to next year's 1st grade backseat conversations.
Knock, Knock
Who's there?
Boo!
Boo hoo?
Don't cry... it's just a knock-knock joke!
For weeks I've been hearing "Next time guys, we have to be way funnier. Way, waaaaaay funnier."
And I've heard it all.
"Knock knock"
"Who's there?"
"Interrupting cow"
"Interrupting co...
"Moo"
"What did the momma tomato say to the kid tomato?"
"ketchup"
(Because they were going for a walk and the kid was falling behind...)
That one took Ella about a month to finally "get" when she saw it on her own milk carton at lunch. Finally.
"How do you make a witch itch?...Take away the w!!!"
**Chirp. Chirp.**
(Again, I had to explain that one for a few weeks)
So yesterday they chatted about being the teacher and the teachers being the students.
Hilarity, my friends. Hilarity.
What really gave me a bit of the giggles was when they decided they would not let them have class everyday but make them take a field trip every. single. day.
Like a field trip is a punishment?
"So their legs would get tired too."
Oh yes, walking the zoo for a day is horrid.
So as I reflect on this year of Kindergarten convo-induced giggles I wonder how things will be now that they are headed on to 1st grade. They've discussed the matter at length, with deep-seeded concerns over the three of them losing each other. Or two of them being together and one being left out. Because, you see, next year they may not all be in the same class.
 | |
| Ella-Barrett-Emma - Last week of Kindergarten - May 2015 |
So during their whole 70 days off from school for the summer I see playgrounds and backyards and tents and firepits and sleepovers in their future. Because each day, at the end of the day, I see hugs and loves and "goodbye's" and "see you tomorrow's" that are genuine and true. I see friends that want to be forever friends. And I want to help foster those relationships and help them grow. Because these kids are good kids. Their parents are good people. They are the kinds of kids I want my baby girl hanging with. Learning from. Being herself with. Because they are accepting of each other just the way they are.
I grew up in a town where you were always in the same class with the same people unless someone moved away or was new to town. My choices for friends were pretty limited. My husband grew up in Omaha and has had the same core group of friends since middle school. Middle school, ya'll. In a town this size??? I'm amazed.
Then I realized why. Do you know who my mother-in-law celebrates her birthdays with? The moms of those friends. Those relationships thrived not only because those kids enjoyed each other, but their parents did as well. They spent time together, they helped cultivate and then tended to those relationships. Our kids, at this age, don't have ample opportunity to get together with their friends until a parent organizes and transports. I've been slacking in this department for the last year. I was tired. I was tired of calling and asking and planning and transporting and scheduling and cleaning up and refereeing and doing. I was tired.
Now they've reached an age where there is a lot less action needed on my part. Ask, plan, transport. Pretty simple. Maybe feed a kid or two here and there. Easy-peasy. So this summer that's what I'll do. I'll ask and plan and transport. I'll supervise. And referee when necessary. I'll love and hug and feed and entertain. I'll do what needs to be done to keep these kids together this summer.
I want Ella and her friends to remember this as the greatest summer ever... until the next summer. The summer when they could get together with friends and continue to feed those friendships, hoping they will continue to bloom in the fall and winter when new friends enter and another school year might separate them. And if during the course of time she decides those relationships aren't the best for her it will be her decision, not mine. It won't be my fault that B-E-E doesn't exist anymore. I will have done what I could to foster and nurture those relationships she has found so easy and fulfilling and enduring this year.
Kindergarten is just the start and I know that next year there will be new friends. Next year there will be more discoveries and better jokes and deeper backseat conversations during carpool. Next year there will be 1st graders in my van. Next year they'll learn more about who they are and who their friends are. They'll grow into bigger kids and stronger individuals. They'll move forward and I'll be there to help maintain the friendships they value and cherish.
So here's to a wildly successful Kindergarten year full of backseat conversations that fill the entertainment quota for my afternoons. Here's to next year's 1st grade backseat conversations.
Knock, Knock
Who's there?
Boo!
Boo hoo?
Don't cry... it's just a knock-knock joke!
Wednesday, May 6, 2015
Giving Kids Creative License
I have a couple of creative types in my house.
Big Sister E is a true creative spirit turning anything into something. Tonight she interrupted my workout to let me know she could make water change color just by saying a magic word. What she'd done was paint the outside of a can, then gave her brother the job of turning on the water and plugging the drain while she ran the painted can under water. Voila! Purple water. Creative. Capital C.
Little Brother C is creative in the "I'm going to find a way to tinker with this to get it to do what I want" kind of way. Last week he was up on the playset with a jump rope and laundry basket. He came in asking for carrots. His plan? A bunny trap. Set the carrots on the ground, hide in the playset, attach the basket to the jump rope and lower it (silently) onto the unsuspecting rabbit as it noshed on the carrot buffet.
When these to minds get together, watch out world, something special is coming.
Recently I've been thinking about how much time I spend entertaining my kids. And the verdict? Well, not so much. Some may say I'm a lazy parent for not engaging in a multitude of activities with my kids. My response? I don't think they need it! Sure, they ask me to play tag, draw a picture, play a game, read a book, and the usual gamut of kid-type requests, and most often I am good with that. But sometimes, "I am disinclined to acquiesce to your request". (Thank you, Pirates of the Caribbean.) And they usually deal with it just fine. Most often, they don't ask for much in the Requires Entertainment department. They like to just make things up and accessorize with all of their stuff. Common activities include "Fluffy Fluff" (he's a puppy, she's the owner), picture-making and building bird-watching huts.
A few days ago they asked to play on the front steps. Not my first choice for a play location, but since I was in the general vicinity and could offer sufficient supervision I gave them the go-ahead. When I went outside to check on them this is what I found...
Yup, you guessed it. That's a roly-poly house, ya'll! Complete with a play area and dandelion accents!
Dad gets in on the creativity action much more often than I do. He seems to have that extra store of energy specifically for entertaining kids that I just don't have in the evening. Barbies were the activity of choice this night and boy did those boys have fun!
Let me assure you, it was very manly fun. Full of battles and motorcycles and stunts!
He even made them an authentic pirate treasure chest, complete with false bottom for hiding treasure. Last summer they decided on their pirate names. This year Captain One Sock and Captain Butterfly are even more authentic.
Rainy days? They wanted to go play on a rainy Saturday a week or so ago. "Why not?" became my philosophy for the moment and I let them go...
And they had a great time! I didn't ever ask the thought-process behind taking the toy box lid, Hotwheels storage box, bandana and straw hat outside, but this is what they came up with...
a ship?
a pirate ship?
a pirate ship with bad guys and the cracken ready to attack?
Your guess is as good as mine, my friend. As good as mine.
This one. She gets all sorts of silly sometimes. Rain, bubbles and alone time and she's golden, let me tell you! She was singing and dancing and blowing bubbles and having a grand old time!
What's the point of all this rambling? Well, I've noticed that sometimes kids don't need constant entertainment. No TV, no electronic games, no planned activities. Just time to play. Be creative. It seems that many of my friends that fall into my decade for age had similar experiences as children. We were allowed to make our own fun. Play in the dirt, splash in the puddles, imagine new worlds and pretend we were anything we wanted to be. Swings were rocket ships. Laundry baskets were bunny traps.
This last New Year's Eve we celebrated with a few other couples and all the accompanying offspring. Instead of planning out their evening's activities down to the minute, we let them enjoy each others company. There was a school full of students and teachers. Games of basketball and tag. Screaming, giggling, fighting and fun. Random, spontaneous, creative and imaginative fun. And they loved every second.
Big Sister E is a true creative spirit turning anything into something. Tonight she interrupted my workout to let me know she could make water change color just by saying a magic word. What she'd done was paint the outside of a can, then gave her brother the job of turning on the water and plugging the drain while she ran the painted can under water. Voila! Purple water. Creative. Capital C.
Little Brother C is creative in the "I'm going to find a way to tinker with this to get it to do what I want" kind of way. Last week he was up on the playset with a jump rope and laundry basket. He came in asking for carrots. His plan? A bunny trap. Set the carrots on the ground, hide in the playset, attach the basket to the jump rope and lower it (silently) onto the unsuspecting rabbit as it noshed on the carrot buffet.
When these to minds get together, watch out world, something special is coming.
Recently I've been thinking about how much time I spend entertaining my kids. And the verdict? Well, not so much. Some may say I'm a lazy parent for not engaging in a multitude of activities with my kids. My response? I don't think they need it! Sure, they ask me to play tag, draw a picture, play a game, read a book, and the usual gamut of kid-type requests, and most often I am good with that. But sometimes, "I am disinclined to acquiesce to your request". (Thank you, Pirates of the Caribbean.) And they usually deal with it just fine. Most often, they don't ask for much in the Requires Entertainment department. They like to just make things up and accessorize with all of their stuff. Common activities include "Fluffy Fluff" (he's a puppy, she's the owner), picture-making and building bird-watching huts. A few days ago they asked to play on the front steps. Not my first choice for a play location, but since I was in the general vicinity and could offer sufficient supervision I gave them the go-ahead. When I went outside to check on them this is what I found...
Yup, you guessed it. That's a roly-poly house, ya'll! Complete with a play area and dandelion accents!
Dad gets in on the creativity action much more often than I do. He seems to have that extra store of energy specifically for entertaining kids that I just don't have in the evening. Barbies were the activity of choice this night and boy did those boys have fun!
Let me assure you, it was very manly fun. Full of battles and motorcycles and stunts!
He even made them an authentic pirate treasure chest, complete with false bottom for hiding treasure. Last summer they decided on their pirate names. This year Captain One Sock and Captain Butterfly are even more authentic.
Rainy days? They wanted to go play on a rainy Saturday a week or so ago. "Why not?" became my philosophy for the moment and I let them go...
And they had a great time! I didn't ever ask the thought-process behind taking the toy box lid, Hotwheels storage box, bandana and straw hat outside, but this is what they came up with...
a ship?
a pirate ship?
a pirate ship with bad guys and the cracken ready to attack?
Your guess is as good as mine, my friend. As good as mine.
This one. She gets all sorts of silly sometimes. Rain, bubbles and alone time and she's golden, let me tell you! She was singing and dancing and blowing bubbles and having a grand old time! What's the point of all this rambling? Well, I've noticed that sometimes kids don't need constant entertainment. No TV, no electronic games, no planned activities. Just time to play. Be creative. It seems that many of my friends that fall into my decade for age had similar experiences as children. We were allowed to make our own fun. Play in the dirt, splash in the puddles, imagine new worlds and pretend we were anything we wanted to be. Swings were rocket ships. Laundry baskets were bunny traps.
This last New Year's Eve we celebrated with a few other couples and all the accompanying offspring. Instead of planning out their evening's activities down to the minute, we let them enjoy each others company. There was a school full of students and teachers. Games of basketball and tag. Screaming, giggling, fighting and fun. Random, spontaneous, creative and imaginative fun. And they loved every second.
With the decline of importance being placed on the arts in our school systems I find it to be more necessary than ever to encourage authentic creativity at home. I'm so thankful E goes to a school where art and music are valued. Where theater club starts at grade four. Where creative licenses are issued to students on a daily basis.
Last month I decided to undertake a major project in our storage room. I'm creating an art room for E to feel free to create as she pleases. While progress has been slow recently I know that once summer arrives I'll have the time to dedicate and the help I need from her to get it completed to her liking. A place for her. A room of her own with paints and crayons and markers and glue. Glitter and paper and stickers. Music and floors to spill on guilt-free. Walls to display her work and be proud of her accomplishments.
I want to encourage the kids to put their creative licenses to full use. To realize their full potential and not be afraid of judgement by the outside world. To create and share and be authentic. To know that their original ideas are valued.
My challenge to you is to turn off the tv, the electronics, the planned activities and encourage your kids to make their own fun for a week. I know that when summer break arrives my kids won't be able to get the back door open fast enough each morning to launch themselves straight into their own world. A world of endless possibilities limited only by their boundless imaginations.
How will you encourage your child's use of his or her creative license?
Wednesday, April 8, 2015
The Friendship of a Lifetime
Seems to me that the term "friend" has come to be used pretty loosely lately. What happened to acquaintances and coworkers? Just because you know someone's name and see them regularly at functions and events does that make you "friends"?
I spent the evening last night with my best friend, just doing what we do. She's been my constant since we were old enough to play in a playpen, ride in a wagon, bathe in a bathtub and toddle through the grass together. We rode bikes, played school, made mud pies and dug in the sand together. When her dad said, "you dig the hole, I'll make it into a pool" we got out the shovels and started digging together. There might still be a 5'x3'x2' hole out behind the tree line of their old house, just waiting for kids to come back and make it big enough to give it life as a pool.
We went to school together... all the way through college. We've been through marriages, divorces, moves, more moves, new marriages and babies together. My kids call her "Auntie Erin" and it fits. It's appropriate. She's been by my side for all of life, even when there's a distance of several hundred miles between us. While we've had distance in the way of miles, the distance between our hearts has seldom been measurable.
We aren't and weren't the do-everything-together-always type of friends though. Our early years were spent physically close and built a bond that can never be broken. During the school years we attended different schools, but still maintained the bond with the distance of only our driveways separating our homes. High school took us down different roads, but they always merged at several points along the way. She was an athlete, I cheered her on. We shared an extreme dislike for track and enjoyed an empty school each week during track season. We worked together full-time during the summers and after school during the school year as activities allowed. We were connected the way small-town kids are. You couldn't really avoid anyone, even if you tried.
With all this close-quarters and connectedness you'd think there would have been fights. Catty, selfish, drama-filled fights. Nope. We've only had one fight during our 37 year relationship. ONE. Single. A disagreement over something trivial and ridiculous in the elementary-school years. The fight lasted at least a full 24 hours. I'm sure. I'm pretty sure an invitation to go on a bike ride down the dusty dirt roads ended that spat.
It occurred to me recently why I think our relationship is so strong to withstand 37 years and hundreds of miles of distance. Honesty and love. Gentle honesty and genuine love. Rarely have we been mean to one another (and never in adulthood). If one of us decides to try something new, the other is supportive and offers encouragement. Always. If she wants to run a 1/2 marathon, I'll call her up and give her support. I'll even start training to run a 10k with her when she decides she wants to do the 1/2 again as a mom of two under two. (I call it CrAzY, and she knows it.) When she realizes how CrAzY it is, we move on to something more manageable. No hard-feelings. No harsh words of youcouldn'thackit condemnation. Just relief that I don't have to keep running anymore!
So we accept each other for who we are. We can't help it. We grew up together and we'll grow old together. Though we wish we lived closer again, the idea of houses across the dirt road isn't altogether realistic anymore. When we travel to see each other, the important stuff isn't the "what should we do?" but the sitting and chatting and visiting and being together. It's the taking of kids to the park. It's the recreating of our old photos together by putting our daughters on a tire swing. It's the laughs and reconnecting and time spent just being us. Just doing what we do. Whatever it might be.
I spent the evening last night with my best friend, just doing what we do. She's been my constant since we were old enough to play in a playpen, ride in a wagon, bathe in a bathtub and toddle through the grass together. We rode bikes, played school, made mud pies and dug in the sand together. When her dad said, "you dig the hole, I'll make it into a pool" we got out the shovels and started digging together. There might still be a 5'x3'x2' hole out behind the tree line of their old house, just waiting for kids to come back and make it big enough to give it life as a pool.
We went to school together... all the way through college. We've been through marriages, divorces, moves, more moves, new marriages and babies together. My kids call her "Auntie Erin" and it fits. It's appropriate. She's been by my side for all of life, even when there's a distance of several hundred miles between us. While we've had distance in the way of miles, the distance between our hearts has seldom been measurable.
We aren't and weren't the do-everything-together-always type of friends though. Our early years were spent physically close and built a bond that can never be broken. During the school years we attended different schools, but still maintained the bond with the distance of only our driveways separating our homes. High school took us down different roads, but they always merged at several points along the way. She was an athlete, I cheered her on. We shared an extreme dislike for track and enjoyed an empty school each week during track season. We worked together full-time during the summers and after school during the school year as activities allowed. We were connected the way small-town kids are. You couldn't really avoid anyone, even if you tried.
With all this close-quarters and connectedness you'd think there would have been fights. Catty, selfish, drama-filled fights. Nope. We've only had one fight during our 37 year relationship. ONE. Single. A disagreement over something trivial and ridiculous in the elementary-school years. The fight lasted at least a full 24 hours. I'm sure. I'm pretty sure an invitation to go on a bike ride down the dusty dirt roads ended that spat.
It occurred to me recently why I think our relationship is so strong to withstand 37 years and hundreds of miles of distance. Honesty and love. Gentle honesty and genuine love. Rarely have we been mean to one another (and never in adulthood). If one of us decides to try something new, the other is supportive and offers encouragement. Always. If she wants to run a 1/2 marathon, I'll call her up and give her support. I'll even start training to run a 10k with her when she decides she wants to do the 1/2 again as a mom of two under two. (I call it CrAzY, and she knows it.) When she realizes how CrAzY it is, we move on to something more manageable. No hard-feelings. No harsh words of youcouldn'thackit condemnation. Just relief that I don't have to keep running anymore!
So we accept each other for who we are. We can't help it. We grew up together and we'll grow old together. Though we wish we lived closer again, the idea of houses across the dirt road isn't altogether realistic anymore. When we travel to see each other, the important stuff isn't the "what should we do?" but the sitting and chatting and visiting and being together. It's the taking of kids to the park. It's the recreating of our old photos together by putting our daughters on a tire swing. It's the laughs and reconnecting and time spent just being us. Just doing what we do. Whatever it might be.
Tuesday, April 7, 2015
A Few Simple Words
I'm comparing myself to you. Right now. I am. You're beautiful and perfect in every way. Seriously. I'm a lump of a mess on the couch who can't seem to "get" the parenting thing, who never manages to put together a single outfit that looks decent outside of the department store dressing room, who wishes she was someone else at times.
But there was that one time when I heard a few simple words. So today I'm wearing a red sweater. My closet is jam-packed with black and shades of black. Sometimes I venture into navy and once in a great while you'll see a splash of Go Big Red red. But mostly I stick to black... you know, it's slimming and all. But today I threw on that red sweater intentionally because one week ago a friend said a few simple words as she gathered one of my most precious possessions into her ride and carted her to school as she does each and every school day. She said to me, "You look good in that red sweater. I like that on you."
Since that brief and likely unmemorable (for her) moment, I've been struck by the idea that I might look good in red. This comment came only days after I waved goodbye and glimpsed my girlfriend's pink tshirt through the car window as she backed out, thinking how cute she always always always looks, only to see myself in the storm door wearing grey shorts and a... you guessed it, black tshirt. Yes, I love my hubby and am proud that he was a college rugby player back in the day, but I promptly changed out of that shirt and put on a Go Big Red red shirt that morning. Because I realized I was boring boring boring in black. Ugh. Boring.
See how that all came about? Just a few simple words in the driveway one morning. "You look cute in that! I like that red sweater on you!" How simple. How mind-numbingly easy. Yet each and every day we miss opportunities to offer compliments. Today I embark on a journey of compliments. Encouragement and praise. Uplifting words and phrases.
Some people are born with the gift of offering compliments easily and without consideration. It's automatic. It's genuine and automatic. I'm not one of those people, but I'm on a mission to become one. I want to be the person you can't wait to run into because I'll have something nice and beautiful to say to you. Words of affirmation that make you feel good about your wardrobe choice, how you did your hair today, how fit you are looking, how wonderful your children are... words that lift you up and put a smile on your face. Words that will brighten your day and stick with you for days to come. Words that you can cherish for at least a few moments if not hours or days or even years.
I want to be there for you with a few simple words. So here's to today being my Red Sweater Day!
But there was that one time when I heard a few simple words. So today I'm wearing a red sweater. My closet is jam-packed with black and shades of black. Sometimes I venture into navy and once in a great while you'll see a splash of Go Big Red red. But mostly I stick to black... you know, it's slimming and all. But today I threw on that red sweater intentionally because one week ago a friend said a few simple words as she gathered one of my most precious possessions into her ride and carted her to school as she does each and every school day. She said to me, "You look good in that red sweater. I like that on you."
Since that brief and likely unmemorable (for her) moment, I've been struck by the idea that I might look good in red. This comment came only days after I waved goodbye and glimpsed my girlfriend's pink tshirt through the car window as she backed out, thinking how cute she always always always looks, only to see myself in the storm door wearing grey shorts and a... you guessed it, black tshirt. Yes, I love my hubby and am proud that he was a college rugby player back in the day, but I promptly changed out of that shirt and put on a Go Big Red red shirt that morning. Because I realized I was boring boring boring in black. Ugh. Boring.
See how that all came about? Just a few simple words in the driveway one morning. "You look cute in that! I like that red sweater on you!" How simple. How mind-numbingly easy. Yet each and every day we miss opportunities to offer compliments. Today I embark on a journey of compliments. Encouragement and praise. Uplifting words and phrases.
Some people are born with the gift of offering compliments easily and without consideration. It's automatic. It's genuine and automatic. I'm not one of those people, but I'm on a mission to become one. I want to be the person you can't wait to run into because I'll have something nice and beautiful to say to you. Words of affirmation that make you feel good about your wardrobe choice, how you did your hair today, how fit you are looking, how wonderful your children are... words that lift you up and put a smile on your face. Words that will brighten your day and stick with you for days to come. Words that you can cherish for at least a few moments if not hours or days or even years.
I want to be there for you with a few simple words. So here's to today being my Red Sweater Day!
Monday, April 6, 2015
Holiday Hangovers
Have you noticed how holiday weekends create a hangover effect on the first day back to reality? A lack of motivation, coordination and ability to open both eyelids at the same time? I'm not a coffee drinker, but the older I get the more it appeals to me.
Our holiday weekend was filled with all the good stuff that leads to a "back to reality hangover"...
Church. Easter service at church filled with some of the traditional classic hymns, although I did notice a lack of oversized hats this year. Maybe I'll have to pick that tradition back up next year... on Ella's beautiful little head of course. Not mine.
Wonderful food. Wonderful, unhealthy, sweet and chocolatey goodness. Goodness that lasts a moment on the lips and a lifetime... yup, on the hips.
Egg hunting a-plenty. Ella was super over-the-top excited to hide eggs for the adults to hunt. Seeing as how the enthusiasm level for the treat bag hunt was far below the anticipated level, I warned her that her idea might be met with far less egg-citement than she hoped. Good thing we had a few good sports in the group and we managed to get through her egg hiding with only one lost egg... the racoons and opossums found a treat that night I suspect.
Front-yard softball. Ella and Cassius have gained an appropriate affection for The Sandlot and will consistently yell "You play ball like a girl" when the situation calls for it. And sometimes when it doesn't. As we drove down the street last week the teams were out in full-force at local diamonds and I heard one child encourage the other to open the van window and yell that same much-adored phrase. Why would they do that? Because, "That would be funny." True that, kiddo. True that.
We heard that phrase a few (million) times during our own little training camp this weekend, but I'd say both the kids should be decent ball players some day. Cassius has the catching and throwing potential while Ella promises to be a great DH and pinch runner. She's got great form and follow-through on her swing and she's greased lightning around the bases. Of course mom makes a phenomenal pitcher/catcher/hitter/runner/base coach and spectator, as does dad. Grandpa even joined in the game and knocked a few out of the park just like, well...
the sultan of swat!
the king of crash!
the colossus of clout!
THE GREAT BAMBINO!
Thankfully Aunt Shari ran a little catching clinic for Miss E this weekend as well. While her brother was practicing last week she joined in only to stomp off after mom "hit her" with three fairly well-placed and incredibly gentle lobs of the ball inches from her glove. Hopefully the lessons "stick" this week when we head out for a game of catch... otherwise she really will be a career DH!
Now that we are back home and snuggled into our own beds life goes back to the routine we are used to, but only after a day full of struggles. Struggles to wake up. To be productive. To eat better and get a good workout in. But tomorrow, well, by tomorrow the hangover will be gone and life will be back to normal again.
Here's to your tomorrow! Make the very best of it and remember this is your chance to do this day better than all the others you've lived so far.
Our holiday weekend was filled with all the good stuff that leads to a "back to reality hangover"...
Church. Easter service at church filled with some of the traditional classic hymns, although I did notice a lack of oversized hats this year. Maybe I'll have to pick that tradition back up next year... on Ella's beautiful little head of course. Not mine.
Wonderful food. Wonderful, unhealthy, sweet and chocolatey goodness. Goodness that lasts a moment on the lips and a lifetime... yup, on the hips.
Egg hunting a-plenty. Ella was super over-the-top excited to hide eggs for the adults to hunt. Seeing as how the enthusiasm level for the treat bag hunt was far below the anticipated level, I warned her that her idea might be met with far less egg-citement than she hoped. Good thing we had a few good sports in the group and we managed to get through her egg hiding with only one lost egg... the racoons and opossums found a treat that night I suspect.
Front-yard softball. Ella and Cassius have gained an appropriate affection for The Sandlot and will consistently yell "You play ball like a girl" when the situation calls for it. And sometimes when it doesn't. As we drove down the street last week the teams were out in full-force at local diamonds and I heard one child encourage the other to open the van window and yell that same much-adored phrase. Why would they do that? Because, "That would be funny." True that, kiddo. True that.
We heard that phrase a few (million) times during our own little training camp this weekend, but I'd say both the kids should be decent ball players some day. Cassius has the catching and throwing potential while Ella promises to be a great DH and pinch runner. She's got great form and follow-through on her swing and she's greased lightning around the bases. Of course mom makes a phenomenal pitcher/catcher/hitter/runner/base coach and spectator, as does dad. Grandpa even joined in the game and knocked a few out of the park just like, well...
the sultan of swat!
the king of crash!
the colossus of clout!
THE GREAT BAMBINO!
Thankfully Aunt Shari ran a little catching clinic for Miss E this weekend as well. While her brother was practicing last week she joined in only to stomp off after mom "hit her" with three fairly well-placed and incredibly gentle lobs of the ball inches from her glove. Hopefully the lessons "stick" this week when we head out for a game of catch... otherwise she really will be a career DH!
Now that we are back home and snuggled into our own beds life goes back to the routine we are used to, but only after a day full of struggles. Struggles to wake up. To be productive. To eat better and get a good workout in. But tomorrow, well, by tomorrow the hangover will be gone and life will be back to normal again.
Here's to your tomorrow! Make the very best of it and remember this is your chance to do this day better than all the others you've lived so far.
Tuesday, March 31, 2015
It's Only Temporary
This break I'm taking? It's only temporary. I promise. Really.
When I created this blog last year I had that nagging voice in the back of my head saying "Sure you'll blog... for a couple of weeks and then it'll be over and you'll be on to something new." "NO!" I said back. "This time I'll stick with it, promise. Really." Then I started getting feedback from people who stop by my blog from time to time and do a little light reading. The more people told me I should write more and keep at it, the more determined I became to stick to the blogging thing. But...
You see, I'm a "hopper". I hop from this to that without much long-term commitment to much of anything (aside from my marriage and parenthood, of course). However, recently I've decided to do less "hopping" and more "sitting". Not sitting in the literal term, but in more of a pick a few things to do well and stick with them kind of way. I'm not going to over commit to too many things. I'll do a few things I feel are really important and that's it.
So here's what's been important for the last few months that have held my attention far more than this whole blogging for blogging's sake thing:
1. Workouts. I started this whole "fitness thing" two years ago and I love my daily self-imposed butt kicking. I kind of enjoy looking and feeling better, so that's a thing for me.
2. Volunteering. I got asked to do a few volunteer activities and I felt they were worthy of my time. So I did them. They'll be coming to an end soon.
3. A side job. Someone thought I'd be good for her business so I helped her out. Now I'm helping out more often, by choice, and really enjoy it! Check out Omaha Culinary Tours if you want to see me in action sometime.
4. Sleep. It has been the main hindrance in my ability to write productively. I'm a night-owl. It's in my gene-pool. But lately I've been pursuing more zzzzzzz's in an effort to get myself on a really tight and toned fitness track. Sleep helps. It really and truly does. So I've been doing more of it. Instead of writing until 2 am, I go to bed around the time the hubs hits the hay... sometimes as early as *gasp* 9:30!!! Unheard of! Ella isn't even asleep that early most nights!
Anyway... my point of this long-winded note to all of you who will take a few seconds to read this is that I promise to be back. Soon. I'm stashing away topic ideas and thoughts... most of which come to me when I lay down during those magical hours shimmering with creativity. But I push them aside and snuggle myself down into the comforter and dream instead of write.
So keep me in your feed, like my page on Facebook, and follow me on Twitter - then you'll know for sure when I'm back. Really and truly back.
Time for those zzzzzz's!
Goodnight all!
When I created this blog last year I had that nagging voice in the back of my head saying "Sure you'll blog... for a couple of weeks and then it'll be over and you'll be on to something new." "NO!" I said back. "This time I'll stick with it, promise. Really." Then I started getting feedback from people who stop by my blog from time to time and do a little light reading. The more people told me I should write more and keep at it, the more determined I became to stick to the blogging thing. But...
You see, I'm a "hopper". I hop from this to that without much long-term commitment to much of anything (aside from my marriage and parenthood, of course). However, recently I've decided to do less "hopping" and more "sitting". Not sitting in the literal term, but in more of a pick a few things to do well and stick with them kind of way. I'm not going to over commit to too many things. I'll do a few things I feel are really important and that's it.
So here's what's been important for the last few months that have held my attention far more than this whole blogging for blogging's sake thing:
1. Workouts. I started this whole "fitness thing" two years ago and I love my daily self-imposed butt kicking. I kind of enjoy looking and feeling better, so that's a thing for me.
2. Volunteering. I got asked to do a few volunteer activities and I felt they were worthy of my time. So I did them. They'll be coming to an end soon.
3. A side job. Someone thought I'd be good for her business so I helped her out. Now I'm helping out more often, by choice, and really enjoy it! Check out Omaha Culinary Tours if you want to see me in action sometime.
4. Sleep. It has been the main hindrance in my ability to write productively. I'm a night-owl. It's in my gene-pool. But lately I've been pursuing more zzzzzzz's in an effort to get myself on a really tight and toned fitness track. Sleep helps. It really and truly does. So I've been doing more of it. Instead of writing until 2 am, I go to bed around the time the hubs hits the hay... sometimes as early as *gasp* 9:30!!! Unheard of! Ella isn't even asleep that early most nights!
Anyway... my point of this long-winded note to all of you who will take a few seconds to read this is that I promise to be back. Soon. I'm stashing away topic ideas and thoughts... most of which come to me when I lay down during those magical hours shimmering with creativity. But I push them aside and snuggle myself down into the comforter and dream instead of write.
So keep me in your feed, like my page on Facebook, and follow me on Twitter - then you'll know for sure when I'm back. Really and truly back.
Time for those zzzzzz's!
Goodnight all!
Saturday, February 21, 2015
Screen Door Discussions
Almost daily I have a quick, 30 second to two minute "screen door discussion" with my friend A.B. Great advice, concerns and major insights happen once in a while. Most often though we just have a good laugh over something trivial, but you know what? That quick little chat gets my day off to a great start. Yes, the smooch from my hubs gets me going in the morning too... but I'm barely awake for that. By 8 AM pickup I'm awake enough to have an "outfit" on for the day and maybe even a bowl of steel cut oats in my belly. This morning's topic? Rogue sippy cups.
I know! Every mom just groaned and thought about that long-lost sippy found molding under the backseat in the van last summer on the 13th day of hotter-than-hot hotness. We've had a few of those roll around our vehicles, but the worst? The absolute most disgusting, get out the rubber gloves and a clothespin for your nose kind of gross came last summer. My daughter's room had a stench I just couldn't quite identify. Vomit? Not quite. Urine? No. Molding crackers? No. Spoiled rotten milk? Absolutely!... but WHERE????
For over a week I cleaned, sanitized, vacuumed, reorganized, sanitized again and tore apart her room. Nothing. Until...
"Mom!!! Look what I found!! I found the bag I packed to have a sleepover with Ella in her room?"
"Mmmhhhmmm. That's nice."
"No! Look! I found it! And my pajamas are in there and my sippy cup!!!"
"Mmmmhhhmmm... ok.... wait, WHAT??? What sippy cup? Let me.... OMG, nevermind... I can smell it from here..."
Whoop! There it is!
And the smell in her room dissipated almost immediately. However the Skip-Hop backpack, brand-new pajamas and undies that actually fit and the sippy cup were a total loss. Permanently. I tried washing the clothes, but after three rounds in the ol' Whirlpool Duet I gave in and tossed them in the trash... in the garage. Uck. Blech. and Eeesh.
So that morning as A.B. commented that she spied a rogue sippy cup in her back seat, she wasn't worried about it. Weeks of sub-zero temps have kept that milk nice and fresh. Drinkable likely. Isn't winter wonderful?
And once again that "screen" door conversation gave me a new perspective on winter. It's singular redeeming quality found rolling around in the back seat of the morning carpool.
I know! Every mom just groaned and thought about that long-lost sippy found molding under the backseat in the van last summer on the 13th day of hotter-than-hot hotness. We've had a few of those roll around our vehicles, but the worst? The absolute most disgusting, get out the rubber gloves and a clothespin for your nose kind of gross came last summer. My daughter's room had a stench I just couldn't quite identify. Vomit? Not quite. Urine? No. Molding crackers? No. Spoiled rotten milk? Absolutely!... but WHERE????
For over a week I cleaned, sanitized, vacuumed, reorganized, sanitized again and tore apart her room. Nothing. Until...
"Mom!!! Look what I found!! I found the bag I packed to have a sleepover with Ella in her room?"
"Mmmhhhmmm. That's nice."
"No! Look! I found it! And my pajamas are in there and my sippy cup!!!"
"Mmmmhhhmmm... ok.... wait, WHAT??? What sippy cup? Let me.... OMG, nevermind... I can smell it from here..."
Whoop! There it is!
And the smell in her room dissipated almost immediately. However the Skip-Hop backpack, brand-new pajamas and undies that actually fit and the sippy cup were a total loss. Permanently. I tried washing the clothes, but after three rounds in the ol' Whirlpool Duet I gave in and tossed them in the trash... in the garage. Uck. Blech. and Eeesh.
So that morning as A.B. commented that she spied a rogue sippy cup in her back seat, she wasn't worried about it. Weeks of sub-zero temps have kept that milk nice and fresh. Drinkable likely. Isn't winter wonderful?
And once again that "screen" door conversation gave me a new perspective on winter. It's singular redeeming quality found rolling around in the back seat of the morning carpool.
Monday, February 9, 2015
Keeping After Your Goals
Quick shout-out to Gretchen Hughes for requesting this blog post! I needed some prompting and she provided the perfect suggestion!
**********
Hot off the presses this morning is a way to keep after your goals. Seeing as how we've ventured into the second month of the year and my hubs is noticing a decline in the competition for parking spots at the gym at 5:45am, some of you have lost sight of the motivation behind your goals. Is that it? A lack of motivation? Or is it poor planning and preparation. Nothing to keep you going besides the knowledge that you have a 20 year reunion in a few months and you don't want to be flabby for that?
I know the drill. You set out on Jan 1 with a goal to lose 30 lbs and tone up by June 1. Then the Girl Scouts start knocking on your door at the make-it-or-break-it point in your transformation.
One cookie won't hurt... I can work that off this afternoon during my walk around the block.
One box wont' hurt... I still have four months to fix this little snag.
One extra rest day this week won't hurt... I will make it up by doing two workouts tomorrow.
The next thing you know you are skipping the reunion and watching reruns of Friends surrounded by boxes of Thin Mints and Tagalongs.
That's NOT going to be me. I have not only a goal, but a plan to get there. Do you???
I'm sure my scenario above is cliche, so I'm going to focus on something I know a good many of my friends struggle with daily. It's really more of an addiction issue than anything. I avoid it like the plague because I know my tendency towards wasting immense amounts of time surfing. A time-sucker is a mild description.
Pinterest has created a revolution in the ways the creative (and not-so-creative) get inspired, share ideas and store everything from recipes to outfit ideas and party-planning tips all in one spot. All those fabulous ideas!!! Logging in to your accout you imagine yourself whipping out the pinking shears and inspiring awe at your next bunco night with hand-made banners and mini cakes in the shapes of dice...
Beautiful, isn't it?
Three hours and no project progress later all you've done is pin another 13,000 ideas to your boards with no time to complete any today.
"Tomorrow is a new day!" you say.
"I'm going to make that tomorrow!" you say.
"I have a great Pinterest project" you tell your friends.
"Oooooh! I can't wait to see it!" They say...
...and you got NOTHIN'. Nada. Nil.
So here's my suggestion, and I'm by no means an expert on accomplishing goals, but I can share what I've done in the past that worked for me!
1. PLAN!!!
Plan your project ON PAPER. Not on the computer. Stay AWAY from the computer... let's make that ALL ELECTRONICS since I know you have the Pinterest App on your phone too. Make your goals accomplishable in increments. Goal A might be to collect the instructions and materials for the project. Goal B could be to complete the first 5 steps of the project. Goal C may be to complete the entire project without being distracted.
2. FOCUS!!!
When it is time to approach your computer, avoid ogling the new pins your friends have sent you. You are on a mission. You have a project to complete! Do NOT open four tabs in your browser. Stick to the board you are working from. If you think you'll wander, set an alarm on your phone to go off every 2-5 minutes and put it with your PLAN! Peeling your eyes away from the computer screen to turn that alarm off will remind you of your plan... just in case you strayed. (Not that you would ever!)
3. TIME LIMIT!!!
Impose a time limit on yourself and give yourself a 10 minute warning. If you have two hours to work, set a timer for 1 hour and 50 minutes so you know your time is coming to an end. Then set another timer for the full two hours. When time is up, time is UP! (See... in a twist of irony my timer just went off telling me I have to put this post on hold while I go get my son from school! It keeps me accountable for those major life committments...)
4. REWARD YOURSELF!!!
Create a rewards system for yourself when you reach a goal or accomplish a project. It could be treating yourself to a coffee from your favorite coffee shop or getting to spend 30 minutes wandering Pinterest.
Make sure you've earned your reward though... don't just go handing them out willy-nilly or you'll fall back into your old rut!
Now that you have a plan, get after that project... and share a picture on my Country Girl at Heart page on Facebook when it is complete!
**********
Hot off the presses this morning is a way to keep after your goals. Seeing as how we've ventured into the second month of the year and my hubs is noticing a decline in the competition for parking spots at the gym at 5:45am, some of you have lost sight of the motivation behind your goals. Is that it? A lack of motivation? Or is it poor planning and preparation. Nothing to keep you going besides the knowledge that you have a 20 year reunion in a few months and you don't want to be flabby for that?
I know the drill. You set out on Jan 1 with a goal to lose 30 lbs and tone up by June 1. Then the Girl Scouts start knocking on your door at the make-it-or-break-it point in your transformation.
One cookie won't hurt... I can work that off this afternoon during my walk around the block.
One box wont' hurt... I still have four months to fix this little snag.
One extra rest day this week won't hurt... I will make it up by doing two workouts tomorrow.
The next thing you know you are skipping the reunion and watching reruns of Friends surrounded by boxes of Thin Mints and Tagalongs.
That's NOT going to be me. I have not only a goal, but a plan to get there. Do you???
I'm sure my scenario above is cliche, so I'm going to focus on something I know a good many of my friends struggle with daily. It's really more of an addiction issue than anything. I avoid it like the plague because I know my tendency towards wasting immense amounts of time surfing. A time-sucker is a mild description.
Pinterest has created a revolution in the ways the creative (and not-so-creative) get inspired, share ideas and store everything from recipes to outfit ideas and party-planning tips all in one spot. All those fabulous ideas!!! Logging in to your accout you imagine yourself whipping out the pinking shears and inspiring awe at your next bunco night with hand-made banners and mini cakes in the shapes of dice...
 |
| http://livesmilecelebrate.blogspot.com/2011/07/bunco-party.html |
 |
| http://catchmyparty.com/photos/1106593 |
Beautiful, isn't it?
Three hours and no project progress later all you've done is pin another 13,000 ideas to your boards with no time to complete any today.
"Tomorrow is a new day!" you say.
"I'm going to make that tomorrow!" you say.
"I have a great Pinterest project" you tell your friends.
"Oooooh! I can't wait to see it!" They say...
...and you got NOTHIN'. Nada. Nil.
So here's my suggestion, and I'm by no means an expert on accomplishing goals, but I can share what I've done in the past that worked for me!
1. PLAN!!!
Plan your project ON PAPER. Not on the computer. Stay AWAY from the computer... let's make that ALL ELECTRONICS since I know you have the Pinterest App on your phone too. Make your goals accomplishable in increments. Goal A might be to collect the instructions and materials for the project. Goal B could be to complete the first 5 steps of the project. Goal C may be to complete the entire project without being distracted.
2. FOCUS!!!When it is time to approach your computer, avoid ogling the new pins your friends have sent you. You are on a mission. You have a project to complete! Do NOT open four tabs in your browser. Stick to the board you are working from. If you think you'll wander, set an alarm on your phone to go off every 2-5 minutes and put it with your PLAN! Peeling your eyes away from the computer screen to turn that alarm off will remind you of your plan... just in case you strayed. (Not that you would ever!)
3. TIME LIMIT!!!
Impose a time limit on yourself and give yourself a 10 minute warning. If you have two hours to work, set a timer for 1 hour and 50 minutes so you know your time is coming to an end. Then set another timer for the full two hours. When time is up, time is UP! (See... in a twist of irony my timer just went off telling me I have to put this post on hold while I go get my son from school! It keeps me accountable for those major life committments...)
4. REWARD YOURSELF!!!
Create a rewards system for yourself when you reach a goal or accomplish a project. It could be treating yourself to a coffee from your favorite coffee shop or getting to spend 30 minutes wandering Pinterest.
Make sure you've earned your reward though... don't just go handing them out willy-nilly or you'll fall back into your old rut!
Now that you have a plan, get after that project... and share a picture on my Country Girl at Heart page on Facebook when it is complete!
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